


lets fix this whole thing then

by Whitsie



Series: unfinished, but at least out of draft-file purgatory [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Do-Over, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 16:11:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20230657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whitsie/pseuds/Whitsie
Summary: Harry Potter and the continued adventures with Avada Kedavras





	lets fix this whole thing then

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: language

Harry Potter died for the second time on November 30th 2051, age 71, the exact same age Tom Riddle had been at his death.

He was not surrounded by his family and friends, as truly he had none in the country. Hermione Granger had left the Wizarding World, taking her husband and children with her, after she realised that S.P.E.W. had far greater prospects for success in America. The rest of the Weasleys had followed the example of their two elder siblings, Percy moving to Australia as an ambassador for their muggle government, Fred and George to Amsterdam under the premise of expanding Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, while Ginny travelled around the world with the Hollyhead Harpies. All Weasleys had sent their children to schools in their new home countries, and by the time Harry Potter died it was a popular joke that the Weasley’s were slowly taking over the world. Luna Lovegood had disappeared 20 years previous with her husband Rolf Scamander, presumed dead to all but those who knew her best, while Neville Longbottom had truly come into his own, and had risen within the Ministry ranks to end up as Minister for Magic, and was to be going for his third term in office next February.

It was not this spread of his self-made family that lead Harry Potter to die alone, for truly he hadn’t, but that he had died while doing his grocery shopping.

He had been hit from behind by an Avada Kedavra for the third time, and while young was ready to embark on the next great adventure.

Or so he thought

* * *

Harry came to in a dungeon, the Slytherin Common room to be precise. He came to knowing three facts. It was 1943, he had fifteen years of memory that were not his own, and he was somehow still the Boy Who Lived. He would have considered this more had he not been distracted by an incredulous call of his name.

“Potter?” And there, striding across the Slytherin Common room was Tom Riddle.

“Riddle.” Harry, somehow managing to assimilate fifteen years of memory into his mind, and accept them as his own, realised that the Harry Potter that he was now inhabiting had not been a Parseltongue.

“_The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches._” Harry truly enjoyed Riddle’s face of absolute shock for a moment, but was unable to say anything as the former (or future) Dark Lord, lived up to his reputation and sent a Killing Curse at Harry.

Harry, of course, lived up to his own reputation, and was not killed.

"Riddle you idiot. We’re at Hogwarts! Hogwarts! Get over here and sit down."

Harry wasn't prepared to deal with the implications of being in a room with the body of teenage Tom Riddle yet. He would focus on making sure that he wasn't sent to Azkaban for the Killing curse first, then work on why they both seemed to be in 1943.

Harry pulled out his wand and began casting a series of spells that he had memorised when he was forty. They were originally meant to be for painters, before cameras were invented. They took what they eye saw and transferred it onto paper. Harry had wanted to change the spell to allow the caster to transfer an image that they were thinking of onto a piece of parchment, however it had mostly failed and the only way that it would work was if the caster had a completely clear image of what they wanted transferred in their mind.

Harry, fortunately, had spent at least a decade researching magic and how it worked, and a part of that had been research into the Killing Curse. Because he had spent so much time poring over his notes, and those of Tom Riddle, that he had found in Riddles Gringotts vault after the War, he could create a set of notes that the headmaster, when he came to investigate the casting of the Killing curse on school grounds, would see and from there he could charm and lie his way out of the situation.

He had just finished, and sat down next to Riddle, who was looking through his notes with interest, and no small degree of anger, when the entrance to the common room opened, and in rushed Armando Dippet, Albus Dumbledore and Horace Slughorn, all dresssed in their nightclothes.

It was late enough at night that there was no one else in the common room, so it appeared to the Professors that there was nothing wrong with the scene, and certainly no dead body to indicate that a Killing Curse had been cast.

"Boys. I was alerted by the wards not five minutes ago that there was an _Avada Kedavra _cast by someone in this room. As this is not a spell that can be cast lightly, I would ask the perpetrator to come forward so that he or she can be questioned as to their motives." Armando Dippet spoke in a voice that, while not as impressive as Dumbledore's could be, brooked no room for argument.

Harry stood up, with a sheepish grin on his face. "I am sorry, sir. It was me and Riddle here."

Harry laughed internally at the astounded face of all the Professors. The Harry Potter of this world, like when Harry was a child, had a reputation for being overwhelmingly light. He was not someone who was likely to have any knowledge about anything remotely dark. Him confessing to casting the Killing Curse was not something that anyone would have expected.

"Would you like to explain that, my boy? I didn't think you knew anything about the Killing Curse, let alone how to cast it."

Harry laughed, making sure that it sounded slightly awkward. "Oh no. I can't. See, I have always been interested in how I survived the Killing Curse when I was younger. It's something that has never been really explained to me properly. So I spent some of the holidays looking into it, and mapping it out, and what it does, but I needed to use magic, and didn't want to ask Charlus, because he had other things to do over the holidays, so I postponed it till I got back to Hogwarts.

"The only problem is that, well, I've never been good at self directed spells." Harry twisted his features to make him look somewhat ashamed at that fact. "I needed someone to help me with that, and Riddle saw my notes one day, and offered to help. You can see our notes on the table." Harry pointed, then laughed self-consciously. "Sorry if you can't read my handwriting.

"So Riddle was casting a revealing spell that he knew of, and when it hit my scar it glowed and sent out a burst of green light. We didn't know what it was, whether it was spell residue or what, so we had just sat down and started to look over our notes, when you walked in.

Harry sent Riddle a look, and he picked up the tale smoothly. "Yes, I've never heard of that reaction happening with the … spell, so I was interested as to what it was. I plan to go to the library to look it up soon. It just so interesting how Egyptian magic and European magic can sometimes have the oddest reactions when mixed, why I know when-" Riddle coughed, then put on a disarming grin. "I do apologise, I get carried away in my research. Merlin knows how Potter here has put up with me until now.

"But no one cast the Killing Curse, Professors. This is really just a big misunderstanding, although I would like to present my wand, and I'm sure Potter would too, to have it checked by _Prior Incantato_."

Both Harry and Riddle held their wands out, handle first, for Dumbledore to take and cast the spell. The smoke that flowed out of Harry's wand formed into two pieces of parchment, showing that he had last cast the _Geminio _spell to duplicate some parchment, while Riddle's formed an Egyptian hieroglyph that Harry knew meant something like 'show'. He had seen the notes for the spell in Riddle's notes in the future, and had made sure that it was on the parchment that Riddle was looking over, written in red ink, so that he could pick up Harry's story seamlessly.

Dippet smiled at Harry and Riddle. "Well then. All's well that ends well. Do be more careful in the future won't you boys."

Harry and Riddle nodded, murmuring affirmatives, and then sat down as the Professors left the common room.

"You are so fucking lucky you have me here, Riddle. Dumbledore would have used this to expel you otherwise."

"Please, Potter. Being expelled wouldn't really be a problem for me, in case you've forgotten."

While Harry couldn't see anyone else in the room he still swished his wand in the familiar pattern for _Muffliato _before replying.

"Yeah, I hadn't forgotten. Same for me actually. I'm seventy-one for fucks sake. What am I doing as a teenager again. The hormones were bad enough the first time around."

"Last thing I remember is trying to kill you, then being hit by my own killing curse. Fucking stupid way to die."

"Fucking hilarious for me. Well not at the time obviously, but later, when I thought back on it… beautiful. I was able to use it to power a patronus actually." Harry smiled at Riddle. "What the fuck are we doing here?"

"I don't know. How could I have any idea. Re-incarnation maybe? Fate and destiny deciding to mess with us. Who knows. May as well take advantage of it."

Harry smiled again, softly. "You asked me to join you when I was eleven. I turned you down because I was...well, eleven. I still won't join you, but I'll be your partner. Your equal. If you'll have me."

Harry held out his wand, ready to confirm the agreement with magic. Riddle drew his wand almost immediately

"I'll have you, Potter. Even if it is as my equal. To a better future than the one we already had."

**Author's Note:**

> is this ever going to be continued? who knows? not me


End file.
